


Papa, I wanna be Star Wars

by jooliewrites



Series: Coliver & Addie Verse [5]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Halloween, Holidays, Kid Fic, M/M, Married Coliver, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 16:57:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5135426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jooliewrites/pseuds/jooliewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darth Vader was wheezing. </p><p>Well, Oliver supposed, wheezing more than normal. </p><p>“Addie. Sweetie,” Oliver began as he walked around the couch. He set the tray they’d made up down the coffee table and sat down on the couch near Addie’s hip. “Can we take your helmet off now?”</p><p>“No!” she protested, little hands reaching up to hold down the sides of her helmet. Her voice, which Oliver knew was broken and thin from the congestion in her throat and chest, came out unnaturally deep from the voice modification of the helmet. “I’m Darth Vader!”</p><p>+</p><p>A Coliver & Addie Halloween</p>
            </blockquote>





	Papa, I wanna be Star Wars

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr.

Darth Vader was wheezing. 

Well, Oliver supposed, wheezing more than normal. 

“Addie. Sweetie,” Oliver began as he walked around the couch. He set the tray they’d made up down the coffee table and sat down on the couch near Addie’s hip. “Can we take your helmet off now?”

“No!” she protested, little hands reaching up to hold down the sides of her helmet. Her voice, which Oliver knew was broken and thin from the congestion in her throat and chest, came out unnaturally deep from the voice modification of the helmet. “I’m Darth Vader!”

“I know but Papa made you soup,” Oliver explained. “And you can’t eat it with the helmet on.” 

Just then the doorbell rang again and Oliver glanced up. Another crowd of trick-or-treaters was on the stoop. “Hang on, Adds,” Oliver began as he started to stand before Connor rushed out from the kitchen.

“I got it,” Connor said absently. He tugged his vest straight and adopted a perfect Han Solo-esque swagger as he went to answer the door. 

Addie turned her head to look over her shoulder and down the hall, angling the helmet so she could see through the eyeholes, before turning back quickly. She crossed her arms over her chest and Oliver imagined her face was sporting quite a scowl under Darth Vader’s mask when she grumbled, “I hate Halloween.” 

“I know.” Oliver gently reached up to take off the helmet and Addie lifted her head to make it easier. 

When his daughter’s head popped free, Oliver smiled sadly down. Her hair was matted to her head, with sweat from the helmet and the fever, and she was flushed. She knuckled a fist over her eye to wipe away the tears threatening to fall. 

Getting sick sucked. Getting sick on Halloween sucked even worse. 

Addie looked down and played with the control pad on her chest. She and Oliver (mostly Oliver) had worked on it for weeks until they got the buttons to light up. “Can we go trick-or-treating now?” she crooked out. Her voice sounding so rough Oliver’s own throat twinged in sympathy. 

Oliver brushed the hair off her forehead before leaning down to kiss it; her forehead was still burning up. “Not this year, bub,” he whispered. 

Addie nodded and leaned in, wrapping her arms around him. Oliver pulled her in close as she burrowed her face into his chest. Oliver felt a few tears through the cotton of his Luke Skywalker shirt and hugged her closer to rock a bit.

“You want to have some of Papa’s soup, now?” Oliver asked when she pulled away a little. He wiped a thumb over her cheek to wipe away the tears that still clung. “It’s tomato and he put goldfish in it.” 

“Okay,” Addie said glumly. 

Between the two of them, they rearranged her on the couch. Addie sat up and Oliver tucked the pillows and blankets around to make her comfortable before settling the tray over her lap. Oliver checked that the tray legs were locked when the doorbell rang again. 

“I’ll be right back,” he told her, running an absent hand over her head, before going to answer the door. 

Oliver handed out candy to pair of Elsas, a baseball player, and a dinosaur. Then swung back into the kitchen where Connor was ladling out more soup for the two of them. 

“How’s it going?” Connor asked.

“Need more candy,” Oliver said and grabbed their last bag off the fridge to pour into the nearly empty bowl. 

Connor hummed noncommittally. “How’s our Vader?” he asked and they both leaned over the counter to look into the living room. Addie looked so small, bundled on the couch by herself, sipping her soup and watching Charlie Brown on the big screen. 

“Breaking my heart,” Oliver told him and Connor squeezed Oliver’s shoulder with a free hand. 

The bell rang again and Oliver went to answer with a “See you in there” thrown over his shoulder. 

When Oliver returned, Connor was snuggled up next to Addie on the couch, his own bowl of soup in one hand, and he was saying something to make her giggle. 

“Daddy!” Addie turned with a smile on her face as Oliver joined them on the couch and picked up his own bowl of soup Connor’d brought out and set on the coffee table. “Did you know Papa can sound like the teacher?” She turned back to Connor. “Do it again!”

Connor did his fairly decent impression of the warbly Charlie Brown teacher again and Oliver laughed as expected but Addie’s giggles turned into a coughing fit. Connor rubbed her back as she stopped and tried to ignore the pang of guilt that he’d made his daughter giggle.

Impressions set aside, the three of them settled back in to watch the rest of the movie with Connor and Oliver taking turns to get up and answer the door for trick-or-treaters. 

As the night went on, Addie let them talk her into taking off more bits and pieces of her costume. The cape went first, joining her discarded helmet, after she’d finished her soup. The chest plate with the control pad went next after Charlie Brown was over and the boots came off halfway through The Nightmare Before Christmas. 

Jack Skellington was just setting off on his doomed Christmas Eve flight when Addie finally fell asleep, head pillowed on Oliver’s thigh with her feet tucked up on Connor’s lap. Oliver turned down the volume of the TV a little while Connor rubbed a gentle thumb over the arch of her foot. 

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?” Connor asked. 

Oliver placed a hand on her forehead. “Still warm but I think the tylenol’s helping.” 

“Good.” 

For a moment, they watched their daughter breathe in and out; it was a little ragged but it sounded like the congestion in her chest was starting to break up. 

“Hey.” Connor tilted his head back on the couch and grinned. “Remember the first time you tricked me into dressing up like Han Solo?”

“I didn’t trick you. You offered to be Han Solo,” Oliver countered. The argument was old and familiar and Oliver’d been expecting it for weeks now. 

“Really?” Connor shot back. “You don’t think you tricked me?”

“I didn’t. I asked you and you agreed.” 

That may have been true but still. “It was the way you asked,” Connor insisted. Then, muttering to himself, he continued, “I couldn’t say no. You were all puppy dog eyes and that voice.” 

Oliver grinned. “What voice?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what voice.” Connor shifted his seat on the couch, careful to not disturb Addie. “You know exactly what voice.” 

Oliver couldn’t stop grinning. He did know exactly what voice but wasn’t about to admit it. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“And then this time, you send our daughter in.,” Connor continued as if Oliver hadn’t spoken. “‘Please, Papa. I wanna be Star Wars,’” Connor said in a decent impression of their daughter. “Taught her the eyes and the voice and everything.”

“Hey. She got the eyes from you,” Oliver insisted because it was true. She may have picked up the voice from Oliver but Addie’s ability to tug at Oliver’s heartstrings with just a look was all Connor. “And besides, can you really blame me?” Oliver asked. When Connor just sent him a puzzled look, he went on to explain. “You make a very…nice Han Solo.” 

“Really?” Connor smirked. Mindful of their sleeping kindergartner, who - if past incidents were any indication - may not be entirely asleep, he chose his words carefully, “A nice Han Solo.” 

“Very nice.” Oliver grinned again but this time there was nothing playful or teasing about it. It was a dangerous grin that sent a punch of heat through Connor’s gut. 

“Well. Okay then.” Connor coughed once and swallowed. “We’ll have to discuss this more later.” 

“Oh, we will most definitely be discussing this later,” Oliver promised. 

“Really?” Connor’s question was just a little breathless.

Oliver lightly bit his lower lip in that way he knew worked. “Oh, yeah.”

Just then, Addie shifted in sleep, grumbling a little and tucking her legs up a bit, and they both snapped out of it. 

Oliver draped a hand over the back of the couch to lightly brush the back of Connor’s neck as they both settled back in to watch the rest of the movie. 

This Halloween may not have turned out exactly like Oliver’d thought it would but - between his Darth Vader getting a little better and his Han Solo tucked up next to him - Oliver figured it wasn’t all bad.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com/)


End file.
